


CAUGHT

by DreadfulTori



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Horror, OC, Other, he's finally been caught, police investigaton, strade btd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 21:03:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20936720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreadfulTori/pseuds/DreadfulTori
Summary: Strade - a sick, twisted man, and he's finally been caught.





	CAUGHT

A hauntingly sweet smile spread across his face as he sat in the chair, the cold metal of the handcuffs not appearing to bother him. He was chained to the table, and his ankles were bound by metal clasps as well. The light above Strade could almost be described as dim, seeming to only make the walls flutter with shadows.

Yet, his smile seemed oh-so bright, it almost hurt Ronald's eyes as he watched that grin peer out from beneath long, greasy hair. Ever since he was captured, it had grown quite a bit. Yet the stuble on his chin appeared kept up with and neatly trimmed, the scar on his jawline prominent against his dark skin.

Ronald sat down at the table across from him, a thick file in his hand as well as a tape recorder. Even just being in the same room as this man sent chills through his spine. He had seen some shit, but he couldn't fathom that this case was real.

It took a while before Strade agreed to speak. The man seemed calm and collected, sitting at the table, grinning at Ronald. He had a grin that was full of malice.

"Hello, Ronald," he said, his accent thick, almost dragging out his words. Ronald immediately turned on the tape recorder, clearing his throat. Sweat was beading on his forehead and his palms were clammy. His composture was falling apart.

Strade had requested Ronald specifically, and he had no clue why. Mayhaps because he was the first one on that horrific scene that flashed in his mind.

Down in a dark, dusty basement, something like out of a horror movie, sat a young woman no older than 20 bound by a rope, her clothes in tattered rags beside her. Her blue, watery eyes were wide in fear and her body was covered in scarring cuts. Dried blood was on the floor and all over the young woman. It was hard to tell what was old and what was fresh, but she appeared to have a few open wounds on her. 

She had been bound and tortured there. 

Ronald shrivled his nose as if he was smelling that putrid copper smell right there. He's seen a lot, but this case was the worst. His mouth was dry, his throat sticking together. He forced the words out of his mouth, and they came out suprisingly strong.

"Hello, Strade. Do you know why you're here?"

"Well," he said through gritted teeth, "I'm assuming you found my collection."

Ronald felt sick. Those videotapes played in the back of his head. He was one of the unlucky ones that had to view those sick tapes, along with his work partner. The contents were inhumane. It was hard to believe someone could do any of that, but the reality was that the tapes were fun for Strade to make, and it made Ronald nearly puke at the idea of him getting off to his actions.

"Yes, we found your little... collection," the words felt like acid on his tounge.

"You do realize that confessing will make it all go by quicker, yes?"

Strade shrugged, his muscles tense and his eyes laced with a deadly glare.

"What's the point? I can't avoid death."


End file.
